From birth until I had corrective surgery in 1999, at the age of 35, I had a deviated septum so severe that one nostril had 100% blockage, the other had about 85% blockage. Retrospectively, this explains a lot of my problems with swimming, among other things, as a child, though no one ever believed me when as a kid I said I couldn't breathe through my nose. (I also sneezed through my mouth back then, which resulted in some truly epic noises.) My blockages are now about 15% on each side, which is sort of like having very mild congestion.
As a result of this, I am a lifetime mouth breather. Since 1999, I've retrained myself when conscious not to do so, but when sleeping, I tend to revert to type. This combines poorly with my current drymouth issues, and so most days I wake up with the tip of my tongue feeling like a leather strip. This does not rank high in the big list o' crappy chemo side effects, but it's a nearly continuous annoyance that requires daily attention.
In other news, I got an hour (and 1,900 words) in on the steampunk lost colony religious novella, "The Stars Do Not Lie." In fact, it's a few hundred words from breaking the novella barrier, in terms of length. I may overshoot the 20,000 word mark, but that's ok. Sekrit Projekt is heating up, and I need to get Endurance out the door Real Soon Now. All is on target, but if I have another round of illness/medical emergency, I am going to be stretched to make deadlines. I lost more than a week of writing, between my own cold, the very bad chemo session last time, and last week's medical crisis here at Nuevo Rancho Lake.
shelly_rae arrived yesterday, earlier than planned due to her foot injury — torn ligaments have sidelined her from most activities. calendula_witch just hit the road for an arrival this afternoon. Tomorrow is her house inspection, which we all expect to go well. Friday is chemo infusion session seven of twelve.
Life, as it tends to do, goes on.